Might As Well Take It Off
by Durriken
Summary: It's hot as hell and the thought of wearing clothes is absolutely dreadful, so Violet and Dash opt for a little bit of freedom.


A/N: This two-parter one-shot idea is courtesy of **_TheStoryImage_**.

Chapter 1: Might As Well Take It Off

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"And you're _sure_ you two will be okay?"

The sun had barely taken its proper place in the sky and it had to be the sixtieth time their mom had asked the same question in the span of ten minutes, in-between bustling from room to room in a mad-dash to make sure that everything had been gathered and packed away, and even now, the answer she received was still the same.

"Yes, mom," Violet drawled from the living room sofa with a hard roll of her eyes. She was still in her pajamas, legs drawn up comfortably. "I've literally run out of words synonymous with 'fine' that I can use—just take my word for it, we'll be fiiiiiine."

"And if you can't take her word—which you shouldn't, you should never trust someone you can't even _see _most the time—then you can _definitely_ take mine, mom and dad," Dash offered helpfully, also clad in his pajamas and laying over the back of the same couch as his sister, which put him just close enough to tussle her hair about.

"Knock it off, brat!" snapped Violet.

He stuck out his tongue. "Why don't you make me, hobgoblin?"

Violet had half a mind to shove him right to the floor, but that would set a bad precedent and possibly cause their parents to cancel everything. And that couldn't happen. For the past week, Helen and Bob had been going on and on about this summit meeting that Auntie Edna was holding at one of her more private estates—and why? Because of Jack-Jack, the superhero prodigy, the baby with immeasurable untapped potential that Edna wanted to glean everything she could from, which meant exposing Jack-Jack to a select few other supers to test his reactions to their powers and see if more of his own weren't discovered in the process.

A process that was to last three days at the bare minimum.

Seeing as neither Violet nor Dash were invited ("Ze baby must be on his _own_—no helping hands, no distractions!" Edna had said), the idea of a three-day holiday away from parental eyes was a vacation that neither sibling could let slip away.

"I don't know," Helen was saying as she stretched an arm back toward the bathroom, "are you _sure_ you'll be fine by yourselves?"

"Now I just feel insulted. It's almost like you think you can fool us by asking it a different way," Violet noted, slumping further into the couch to escape her brother's constant hair twirling. "Mom, listen to me—really, really listen, okay? We. Will. Be. Fine."

The look of worry over Helen's face did soften somewhat but both Violet and Dash already knew there was no way they were going to completely assuage her concerns, that was just a fact. "Well…" she began hesitantly, pulling back a bottle of baby lotion that she meticulously stuffed into the already bursting suitcase, "you have our numbers, right?"

Dash lifted an absurdly long strip of paper in one hand. "Yeah, mom."

"And our emergency numbers?"

Sighing, Dash lifted an even longer strip of paper in the other hand. "Yes, mother," he said through clenched teeth.

"Then that's about it in a nutshell," came Bob, sneaking up behind his wife to give her a suckling kiss on the neck. In his arms was a giggling, babbling Jack-Jack. "Shall we, Helen?"

"Wait," she pressed a finger to Bob's amorous lips, turning to face her other two offspring, "You two are absolutely _sure_ you'll be—"

"WE'RE FINE!" Dash shouted at the ceiling, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "Just—we're fine! We will _beeeee_ fine! It's only three days! We got the numbers, we got the emergency flares, there's enough leftovers in the fridge to feed the entire block—" He rolled down the sofa, landing upright next to his sister and looking just as through with this game of constant reassurance. "Vi', I feel an aneurism coming on, I just—I can't keep up the fight anymore, take over…."

He lifted a feeble hand for the tag-in and Violet rolled her eyes, smacking it anyway.

"It's rare that I agree with this little bug here, and I'll probably need a hot shower when I say this but… he's right." She glanced back over the sofa to where her parents stood: Helen's brow was still tightly furrowed while Bob was looking annoyingly entertained. "Mom, Dad? We got this. Homework's done, we're all set for the weekend, we're not going anywhere. We're not _total _idiots, you know."

"What she said," muttered Dash half-heartedly, "we're more like, a third of an idiot each."

"So who's the last third, then?" Bob asked over his wife's shoulder, sincerely curious.

"You," Dash responded easily, sporting a face-splitting grin. "Mom's the only one with any smarts in this house, thought that was common knowledge."

What broke the following silence was Jack-Jack's blithering giggle; it caused the rest of the Parr family to erupt in laughter and Helen closed her bulging suitcase with a defining click.

"Alright. Guess there's no point in asking if you'll be fine a sixty-third time, clearly your response isn't going to change," she said with a knowing smirk at her daughter, and it was only now that she returned Bob's previous lingering kiss. "Got everything, honey?"

"I had everything two hours ago, dear, I've just been enjoying this cute little back and forth with the kids," said Bob playfully, nuzzling the crook of her neck with his lips.

When Dash snorted, Helen sucked her teeth with a slight pout. "Hey, I had to make sure," she reasoned, swinging on her jacket then fitting Jack-Jack into his. By the time she and Bob were at the front door, Dash was quickly flipping through the TV channels, his thumb a blur, while Violet was still slouched. "Well, you kids behave yourselves, okay? We'll be back before you know it."

"It's hard to be back if you never _leave_, mom," Violet pointed out, "that's the issue we're trying to fix here."

It wasn't until all the "I love you"s were had, followed by a few last minute warnings, that the front door finally closed and the glorious sense of parental liberty was free to claim the land.

"Finally," said Violet with an exhale, and she deftly plucked the remote from her brother's grasp, giving him a haughty little smirk when he scowled at her. "What? You already heard mom and dad, _I'm_ in charge, Dash."

"_WHAT_?" The look on Dash's face was absolutely mutinous. "You can't even be in charge of talking to boys so what makes you think you can be in charge over _me_?" he questioned, bringing an angry blush to Violet's face, and when he tried to swipe the remote back she held it out of reach. "Gimme!"

"Oh, you want it? Okay." Violet pulled on the waistband of her pajama bottoms, dangled the remote with a taunting wiggle, and dropped it between her thighs, squeezing tight. "Come get it, twerp."

Dash's entire face crinkled with disgust. "Ahhh, gross—that's not even fair! Come on, get the remote outta there, you're gonna melt the buttons off doing that!"

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Violet said with a victorious smirk, and she sat back quite comfortably, giving her thighs a squeeze every now and again when she wanted to change the channel.

Words weren't enough to describe how annoyed Dash was, but he also knew there was no way one earth he was going to reach his hand into that pit either. He didn't know exactly what was between her legs but he knew what was between _his_ so based off that he knew that's where her 'special' place had to be.

And no way in hell was he touching that.

Sulking, Dash threw himself back into the cushion, arms crossed so tightly it was amazing he didn't crack a bone. "Fine, whatever…."

Another squeeze flicked on the weather and they both sat up straight when they saw how hot it was going to be for the day.

"—and not just for today," the weatherman was saying, in the very animated process of taking off his suit jacket. "This heat wave is predicted to not only hit a new record for the city of Metroville but it's slated to last for the next two days as well! So from all of us here at Metro-Weather, we're urging all citizens to stock up on water, stay inside, and, most importantly, stay cool! If you have a pool, now's the perfect time to fill it with ice and take a good—"

Violet pulled the remote from between her legs and flicked the set off with a dragging groan. "Grrrreat…."

"I _thought_ it seemed a little hotter than normal when I woke up!" Dash exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the TV. "The sun's trying to boil us alive!"

"We get three whole days away from Parent One and Parent Two and now it's looking like we won't even be able to go outside without catching heatstroke!" Violet seethed, and she tossed the remote, bouncing it off Dash's shoulder. "Here, take the stupid thing, I'm too annoyed to care…."

Happily, eagerly, Dash snatched it up, turned back on the set, and went right back to channel-surfing. "Don't be such a spoilsport, Vi'. I mean, really, what were you gonna do? We already told mom and dad we'd stay in the house in the first place so virtually nothing's changed… unless…." The most brattiest smirk ever spread through Dash's lips and he faced his sister who was doing an admirably job of staring anywhere but at him. "You were planning on sneaking out, weren't you?"

"Of course I wasn't—" Violet started tersely, but Dash was nodding as fast as he could run.

"Yeah-huh! Lemme guess, lemme guess—you were gonna go visit that Tony guy! He's about the only dude I know crazy enough to deal with you! That's it, ain't it?"

Violet rolled her eyes, resisting the growing urge to knock him upside the head. They had already promised no fighting, but damn it, when Dash was busy rubbing one forefinger over the other in a scolding fashion and going, "You naughty girl", he was basically begging to catch one in the gut. As it was, she merely tossed one of the sofa pillows at him.

"I wasn't going to sneak out, God!" she exclaimed, feeling nettled. "I was just, you know… it's not like we _can't _explicitlyleave the house or anything—and it was just going to be for a few minutes anyway, not too long—"

"But long enough for the two of you to start kissing, though," Dash observed, one eyebrow cocked to match his teasing tone. "Why anyone would wanna suck _your_ face is beyond me, I don't get it."

"You almost sound jealous," Violet noted, and the way Dash abruptly lapsed into stuttering caused her to laugh. "Oh-ho, what's this? Does widdle Dashie like his big sister? Awwww, he's sho schweet!"

"Shut up! I do not!" Dash yelled, forgetting his quest to peruse every single channel cable had to offer. "Who would wanna kiss a cow like you anyway?"

"Mom's the cow, thank you very much," corrected Violet flippantly, "and if you want a little kiss, all you gotta do is ask, Dash," she added, puckering her lips with an exaggerated '_mwah!'_

Distracted by their own bickering, the hours crept by and morning eventually faded into a smoldering noon, and true to the words of the weather channel, the temperature made a hostile spike. Not even cranking the AC up to the max did much to alleviate the muggy warmth invading every inch of the house; it was an almost sentient heat, one determined to squeeze out every last drop of sweat that existed within the two of them.

With a groan that was more sluggish than tired, Dash flumped back onto the sofa, the designated 'cool spot'. "Hey… Vi'… you know Mrs Douglby, from across the street?"

Sweat pebbled Violet's head, breathing was almost a chore it was so hot, but she somehow managed to nod. "Yeah, why?"

"She's actually outside cooking eggs on the sidewalk."

"…What?"

"Yeah. Outside, in a tank-top and shorts, cooking three eggs." Dash shook his head in disbelief. "And to be honest? She's making me hungry, they looked about ready."

"You wanna chance catching skin cancer by going outside then be my guest, Dash," Violet muttered, lazily flinging a hand at the front door. "But just so you know? I'm treating the outside like a zombie apocalypse right now. Once you go out, that's it, you're gone."

Dash gave a hoarse chuckle, his blonde locks matted around his forehead and slick with sweat. "You kiddin'? That was a hint for you to get off your butt and fix me some lunch."

The look that Violet gave her brother could have melted steel. "Oh, poor Dashie, the sun must have roasted your brain, huh? Because you seem to be under the illusion I'm going to do _anything_ besides sit here and struggle not to succumb to heat exhaustion," she told him with a sympathetic shake of her head.

"But I'm hungry…."

"Drink your spit, I've been doing it for the past hour or so. It's surprisingly cool and refreshing."

"Spit's not enough," Dash whined.

"Then drink my spit, too," Violet offered with a shrug, sticking out her tongue.

"You're disgusting, Vi'."

"This from the kid who ate a literal mudcake with worm toppings?"

"Hey, that was a long time ago!"

"Six days ago is a long time to you?"

If the effort of moving weren't such a chore, and if he didn't feel grafted into the sofa, Dash would have leapt at his sister. As it stood, he only scowled in her general direction. It was simply too hot to do anything else. The entire living room was aglow with the sun's rays, bathing everything in a shimmering quality like there was a gas leak somewhere.

And this was just day one.

They had long since tried carrying around little ziplock bags of ice, but those quickly melted. Even with the air conditioner at full blast, they only ever felt the random stray gust of chilled wind before the heat choked it out. Dash had tried to fashion a pair of fans from the front cover of his schoolbooks but Violet stopped him; then he came up with the idea of filling the tub for a relaxing soak, which left Violet laughing when the water came out lukewarm at best.

"You know, I didn't think they were that serious when they said it was going to be _this_ hot," Dash grumbled, splaying his limbs. There were trickles of sweat rolling down the curve of his neck. "This is just ridiculous…."

"Could be worse," said Violet, limply hanging over the end of the couch.

"How?"

"There's only two sweaty bodies in this house," she said, straightening up with a lingering yawn. "Imagine if mom and dad and Jack-Jack were here, too. We'd have five times the body heat, in a house already hot as _hell_. Yeah, this is definitely the not-worst scenario."

Nodding begrudgingly, Dash glanced down his chest. "Body heat, hm…?" He tugged on his pajamas; they were damp beyond repair with sweat and felt more like a skin-tight suit than anything at this point. "Heeeey, Vi'…."

"I already said I'm not making you anything right now," she snapped moodily, hunching tighter into herself. "Go check and see if Mrs Douglby is done with her eggs."

"No, no, not that," he said, shaking his head with a small smirk. "I was gonna say… how about we just ditch our pajamas?"

"What, you mean and get dressed?" Violet sucked her teeth and waved him off. "I'll pass, Dash. I don't think switching from one style of clothing to the next is going to cool us down any."

The motion of crawling over to her was a taxing one yet somehow Dash managed, dragging himself along with one arm until he was so close to his sister he could catch the heavy stench of her sweat. As the tip of his nose just barely skirted the bend of her hips, Dash realized that while his sister wasn't the least bit dirty, there was a certain twinge of musk in that cocktail of aroma that caused his nostrils to flare.

"You've got about t-minus ten seconds to stop sniffing at me before I deck you in the face," Violet said warningly, opening a single eye and narrowing it at him. "What're you doing, weirdo?"

"You're smelling kinda ripe there, sis," Dash noted evenly, and the way Violet's face turned a deep cerise gave him just enough warning to dodge the swing she took at his head. "Hey, whoa! I didn't say you smelled _bad_ or anything, sheesh!"

"There is literally _no_ other way anyone can take hearing they… that they smell ripe, you gigantic mongoloid!" Violet screamed, and she took another wild swing that Dash, in all his glorious speed, easily avoided. "You—are—so—embarrassing!"

Each word was punctuated by a halfhearted swing that Dash easily dodged, that smug grin notwithstanding. There never really was a point in trying to hit him when she had his attention, and Violet already knew this. Given his abnormal speed, if Dash ever did get caught by one of her punches or kicks, it was on purpose, nothing more than a brother's courtesy to make her feel better, which, naturally, only served to upset her further. So when she eventually thudded him over the head and he reared back with a groan of pain, she sucked her teeth in a disturbingly good imitation of her mother.

"Such an idiot," she grumbled, reaching over and rubbing where she'd hit him. "Now what in the heck are you trying to suggest here? Go slow, use your words."

The way she rubbed his forehead was utterly soothing to the young blonde but betwixt leaning into that hand and giving a contented smile, Dash still managed a short, "Bite me" in response, then brushed her hand away. "And okay, for the _second_ time, what I'm saying is we ditch our pajamas annnnd… that's about it."

"See, you say that, and I thank you for using your big boy words, but it still doesn't make sense to me."

"Not surprising, you always were a little slow on the uptake." Shaking his head, Dash reached out and tugged on his sister's pajama top. It was just as soaked as his was. "Let's go commando for a bit."

A few trickles of glistening sweat slithered down the side of Violet's neck during the time she spent merely staring at her brother, her eyebrows nearly joining into one they were so furrowed. "You… have no idea what 'going commando' even means. Do you?"

"I mean…" Dash shrugged, tugging on the neck of his shirt in an attempt at inviting some vestiges of a breeze. "Of course I—no, no I don't. Does it matter?"

"Oh, trust me, it matters."

When she actually giggled, Dash frowned somewhat. "Well… well, whatever! You get what I'm trying to say, dang it!" he flustered. "Let's just go around in our undies for awhile—at least until it gets cooler. Whatta ya say?"

It took a few moments for Violet to quell her laughing fit. There was just something hilarious about her brother being so ignorant to such a term and then using it in their situation without a clue as to what it meant. "O-oh, boy… that laugh actually felt good," she said with a quivering smile, reaching up for the buttons on her top, "and sure, why not? Anything's better than essentially roasting like a turkey…."

Every button popped gave Violet a much appreciated burst of fresh air as she opened up more of her heated flesh to the elements; it was as if the wind had transformed itself into a cool pair of lips and proceeded to caress all along her neckline, down her collarbone—it was enough to draw out the smallest of moans as she began to undress in earnest, tossing her soaked top to the floor. She stood next, fiddling with the drawstring of her bottoms.

Next to her, Dash had already taken off his bottoms in quick order, but his shirt, clingy with sweat, had gotten stuck in the process of pulling it over his head and was now putting up one hell of a fight; it had him rolling about the couch in a blind tangle of limbs and grunts. "Let go of me, you stupid—c'mooooooon!"

Watching this admittedly cute scene play out for a few seconds, Violet eventually unknotted the front of her bottoms, let them fall into a pile around her ankles, then flicked them off to the side with her foot. "Dash—hey, Dash, if you'd just hold still I could help," she said, and when he ceased his flailing, now even more sweatier for the energy wasted, she shook her head pityingly and pulled the shirt off with a simple tug. "There, stupid, easy peasy."

"Yeah, easy for _you_," Dash snapped hoarsely, rubbing at his neck. "Stupid shirt was tryin' to choke me to de—whoa… Vi', what're you wearing?"

Quirking an eyebrow, Violet stared down her chest. "What do you mean what am I wearing? It's just my regular old… oh… oh, dang…."

It was funny, beyond funny really, watching as Violet's entire face turned such a shocking red that she lifted both hands to her face, as if that would somehow shield her from the embarrassment making her wish she could just fall through the floor. She had completely forgotten that she had spent the better part of last night modeling the newest addition to her undergarment collection, twisting and posing in her mirror, greatly admiring the lacy pink bra and matching pair of frilled panties with the little black bow on the front.

"I'm such an idiot," she garbled into her hands, peeking at Dash through her fingers. When she saw that he was staring at her intently, eyes wide and mouth agape, she huffed, rolled her eyes, and slammed her arms down to her sides. "Yeah, okay, sure, look at Violet in her stupid undies—"

She gasped when Dash reached out a hand and flicked the little bow, effectively silencing her. "I don't think it's stupid," he said with a casual shrug. "It looks really cute, the bow there just makes it—and I'm sure the boy you obviously bought them for will think the same."

"I didn't buy it for any boy, I bought this for _me_," Violet said, placing a hand on her hips.

"Like I said, if Tony's not all the way braindead from kissing you then he'll appreciate it," and Dash lifted both hands, making a camera box with his fingers. "Oh yeah, very photogenic, Ms Violet, absolutely stunning. Give us a twirl, won't you?"

Maybe it was the heat finally getting to her, or maybe it was the fact that she was feeling oddly empowered standing there in her undies without a shred of care, but Violet found herself complying with her brother's playful request, twirling on the tips of her toes like a princess might, enjoying the rather elegant way her hair fanned out.

Not one to miss a single moment, Dash was leaning this way and that, making sure to capture every angle. "Wonderful, simply wonderful," he said energetically, lowering his 'camera' and giving her a smile. "Look at you, giving hope to all the girls out there that even a beast can have a figure."

Sure, it was a back-handed compliment, with extra hand at that, but Violet chose to focus on the figure part and ran an experimental hand over the curve of her hips. They were in no way, shape, or form even close to matching the behemoths that her mother proudly swayed to and fro with her every step, but then again, Helen was a mother of three, and everyone knew that kids had the propensity to increase your figure, or demolish it, and Helen was lucky enough to come out on the right side of things.

So for Violet, given her current age and the fact that she was still growing, the prominent curves she did have always put a smile on her face, much like it was doing now as she slowly, appreciatively, rubbed her hips up and down.

"Ew, Vi', you're doing it again… that thing with your mouth," Dash noted with a shudder of disgust.

"It's called a smile, you blonde midget, and I _know _I'm not hearing any talk from the kid in the tighty-whities," she snorted pointing a mocking finger at the only article of clothing Dash had on. "Seriously?"

Far from yielding to his sisters scornful tone, Dash leapt onto the back of the couch and struck a heroic pose. "Yeah, I know, it's hard to believe that someone can look _this_ good, right? But it's true, and I do, so bask in the glory while you can, sis. Besides my speed, this absurd level of handsomeness would probably be my next best quality."

Despite her best efforts against it, and boy did she try, Violet couldn't keep from laughing. "That sounds like something mom would say! You're such a momma's boy!"

"You _look_ like mom," Dash shot back without an ounce of forethought.

Violet only laughed harder, using the sofa as a brace when her legs started to feel weak. "Okaaaay, and? Like that's an insult! Have you _seen_ our mom lately? You know, the lady with the huge knockers and coke bottle figure? Please, compare me to her again, it hurts me so bad, you have no idea!"

There was no conceivable way that Dash could salvage his knee-jerk insult-turned-compliment so he didn't even bother, choosing instead to join her in laughing. "Okay, okay, whatever, look, can I just get some food already?" he asked, climbing down the sofa and proceeding into the kitchen with a hand over his growling stomach. "I was kinda hungry before, now I'm starving—and you _are_ the designated adult here."

Figuring he had rightfully earned something to eat after giving her that laugh, Violet followed him, finding some comfort as her bare feet meet the surprisingly cool linoleum tiles. "Mmmm, that feels good…."

"Yeah it does," cooed Dash, who knew exactly what she was talking about since he was already lying flat-out on his back. "Never thought I'd one day fall in love with a floor, but it's sooooo nice and cold…."

"I'll send out the wedding invitations." Shaking her head, Violet stepped over her rug of a little brother, planting a foot on either side of his head, then got up on her tippy toes to reach one of the cabinets. "Now, let's see… what've we got that's quick…?"

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A/N: **#yearoftheoneshot**


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